What The Fireworks Tell
by Chi-Chan11
Summary: On Independence Day, America finds himself thinking back on his past, and what the fireworks remind him of.


**This is just another fan fiction relating to the Fourth of July. I thought I'd take a more somber tone for this, and so I hope everyone who reads it likes it! Happy birthday America!**

**-Chi-Chan11**

**P.S- This story does have the lightest touch of USUK, so be warned!**

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Another Fourth of July, another birthday and another reminder of everything that had happened; and for that reason, was why America now sat, hours before the wild party, mulling over everything that had happened throughout all of those years he had been around. The house was decorated, streamers in flashy red, white and blue draped over the walls and American flags plastered wherever he could find room.

Looking out the window, he gave a brief smile to the massive pile of pyrotechnics that sat on his back porch, waiting their turn to be hurtled into the night sky to compete with the stars. The smile quickly vanished though, as his thoughts came back into the limelight. Although the fireworks were one of his favorite parts of his birthday, they reminded him of millions of past moments, and some of them full of pain.

Getting up, America wandered into his kitchen, poking his head into the fridge, looking over all of the platters of food that were crammed into the shelves, he could feel his mouth watering with hunger. Shaking his head to clear the food cravings from his head, America let the door swing shut, and wandered back into his living room. Flopping back into his chair, he listened closely to the beginning sounds of fireworks popping into the sky, and wondered how long it would be until everyone arrived.

"Oh, crap!" A glance at the clock revealed that his guests were due to arrive in about ten minutes, and knowing some of them, they would be right on time. Jumping up, America raced into the kitchen, yanking out various plates, vaguely seeing what appeared to be chicken wings and sliders as he set them onto a long table. Jabbing a button on his stereo the whole downstairs was suddenly bombarded with loud pop music. Letting a smile creep back onto his face, America walked outside to his back porch, a bounce in his step.

"Damn, this be the best firework show yet!" Jumping up slightly with the cheer, the American checked the careful wiring on the fireworks, and then dragged them out onto the lawn where they would be launched in a few hours.

The sudden sound of knocking sent America barreling through his house towards the front door. Flinging it open revealed a stoic Japan, along with a bouncy Italy and an exasperated Germany.

"Hey guys! Come on in and make yourselves comfortable!" With the biggest smile he could muster, America held the door open as the three countries came inside.

"Happy birthday America!" Italy was the first to wish the noisy country a happy birthday, but he certainly was not the last.

"Hai, happy birthday," with that, the trio wandered off and sat down, Japan and Germany talking, while Italy just bounced around.

Within the hour, almost all of America's guests had arrived, and the house was a complete zoo. Along with the music, the sounds of nations talking had driven the decibel level through the roof, and there were even more people to come.

At the moment, America was sitting at a table watching Prussia and Spain bicker over something the other had said, and he was becoming bored quickly. Standing up, he began to weave through the crowd in the living room, everyone was doing one thing or another. A sharp screech caused him to twist his head to the left, and narrowly dodged Belarus, who was going after Russia with a dark glint in her eye. Laughing happily, the American stood by the front door, watching the commotion and recovering from the dancing he had been doing about fifteen minutes earlier.

A soft knock on the door, one that was almost inaudible, made him jump and spin around, wondering if in fact someone had knocked; opening the door a crack and peeking out revealed none other than England, and very late at that.

"Hey!" With a big grin, America slid outside, waving madly to the slightly awkward looking Brit. "I thought you weren't coming," for a brief second, the smile dropped, but with America retrieved it with more skill than he thought he had.

"Well I did," England shrugged fairly casually, crossing his arms. "It's quite noisy in there, how many people did you invite?"

"Everyone we know of course! The more party the better! Let's go inside now," America opened the door back up and walked back inside, England following close behind. "Just go ahead and do whatever, there's food laid out, so have fun!" With a happy wave, America bounded back into the crowd.

After a few more hours, America was starting to become tired. He had talked to almost everyone, danced and stuffed his face while he was at it. It was now completely dark, and it was prime time for setting off fireworks. Making his way back through the crowd, he jammed the stop button on the earsplitting music, effectively cutting off the loud talking.

"Hey everyone!" America yelled from the center of the room, and all eyes looked towards the noisy American. "Can I get everyone to go outside into the back lawn, I'm going to set off the fireworks display!" Adding a little cheer at the end of his tiny speech, he motioned towards the back door, never losing the massive grin on his face. The other countries streamed out quickly, gathering in small groups and sitting in the cooling grass. America grabbed the starter switch for the whole extravaganza and carried it outside with him. Standing behind the crowd of nations, he cleared his throat once before continuing his yelling.

"Alright! The fireworks are going off in, three, two, one, now!" Putting emphasis on the last word, America smashed the start button, and within a second the sky was illuminated with plumes of green and gold. Gasps came from some of the more goofy countries, and soft talking and laughter became apparent as the show continued.

For a few minutes, the American watched the firework show with a smile, but as time went on, it became harder and harder to hold onto that smile. Glancing around to see if he was being watched, he slipped inside, thumping up the stairs. In one of the recesses of his home, he found the small balcony that he never used, sitting out on a weathered lawn chair, he tilted his head up, watching the fiery displays.

Memories started to flood back through the American's head as each blast lit up the sky, and with each, the smile on his face slipped a little further. After about five minutes of watching fireworks, America had not smiled for a good three minutes, and his throat felt thick and his eyes were stinging from tears that threatened to spill over. Shaking his head, he sat up, feeling his back crack as he got out of the hunched over position.

'_Why do fireworks have to sound like gunshots? Why do they have to remind me of everything that happened?' _As the American mused, he was unaware of anything going down below. However, when footsteps began to sound through the hall, he was surprised to the point where he fell off the chair.

"Crap! Ow, damn that hurt," cursing quietly, America got off the ground sitting back in the chair, unfortunately, whoever had wandered upstairs had heard him.

"America, is that you?" A tentative voice echoed down the hall, revealing it as England.

"Yeah it's me, what are you doing up here?" Twisting around, America could see the Brit staring at him from the shadows of the dark room, "you can come sit with me if you'd like."

"I should ask you the same thing," England sat lightly down on the other chair locking an emerald gaze onto the American. "But if you must know, I saw you disappear a few minutes into the fireworks, and even know I'm almost never at your birthday parties, but I know that behavior is very unlike you. So, what's troubling you?" Surprised, America twisted towards England, eyes widening briefly before going back to their normal look.

"Nothing, the view is just better up here," the lie wasn't his best, but at the time, it was all he could think of.

"That's a horrible lie, just tell me what's wrong you bloody git," the Brit leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"The fireworks remind me of everything, the good, and the bad too." Running his hand through his hair, the American could feel a blush forming on his cheeks.

"How so? What's so bad about this day for you?"

"The fireworks sound so much like gunfire, and after so many years of war and bloodshed, it gets to a guy, you know?" Looking up at his counterpart, America was surprised by the sad look on his face.

"I understand all too well America," England sighed again, locking his eyes on the sky. "And I'm sorry to see that you have to see that side of the world as well." At this point, silent tears were streaming down the American's face. Seeking the closest thing of comfort, he pulled England into a tight hug.

"What are you-" England cut off immediately when the American let out the tiniest of sobs, and he wrapped is arms around America. "it's your birthday, this is no time to cry."

"I g-guess," with a soft hiccup, America looked up, "but I can look tomorrow, right?"

"Certainly," England pressed a soft kiss to the others cheek, resulting in a surprised squeak, "and I'll be there the whole way."

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**Happy Fourth of July everyone!**


End file.
